


E Môr Henion i Dhu

by relinquish_one_bullet



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relinquish_one_bullet/pseuds/relinquish_one_bullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly the last of her kind, Dahlia is kept an arm's length away from her father to preserve her heritage. But when adventure presents itself, no matter how dangerous, she takes the plunge and accompanies a band of dwarves (and one very lost hobbit) to fight for their homeland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Faeries

**Author's Note:**

> \- Rated E for later chapters  
> \- Loose interpretation of timeline/events

Faeries, that’s what the humans called them. Though, admittedly, it had been a long time since Dahlia had even seen any humans in the area or any of the other strange mortal beings that had drawn the line between themselves and the animals of the forest long ago. 

It made her desperately curious when these creatures did stumble into the forest, _her_ forest, and although it was dangerous (and more importantly forbidden), she often trailed them, listening to their odd voices tell stories and sing songs around giant camp fires. 

On more than one occasion, she’d found herself tucked up into a tree, watching them as they cooked meals in the dawns light. Or sometimes she would hide amongst the wild flowers, their scent overwhelming and welcome, while they toiled away at whatever task found them in the woods to begin with. Sometimes still, she played with them, dancing between the light, just out of reach, until she grew bored or tired and disappeared again. 

And although she would never admit it, every so often she would show herself to them, her true form, simply to keep the rumours circulating that there were indeed faeries in the forest. She hoped more people would come that way. 

“Will you tell me of the old land?” 

It was young Eden, her wide eye searching. She’d only been a child back then, she remembered nothing. Her face still help that same child-like expression it had when the clan had been forced to move, leaving behind burning homes to escape a particularly nasty party of orcs. 

Dahlia had lost her mother in that march. 

Eden was now a mere twenty years old, still a child in many of the other faeries eyes. Dahlia was nearing fifty, almost a respected adult (or perhaps she could have been had she cared for such things). She sighed at the thought, perching herself lightly on the edge of the branch lowest to the ground and therefore closest to where Eden was sitting. 

“Why do you ask me these things?” she mumbled, frowning

“I don’t remember much…just the feeling.” Eden replied quietly, “The Trollshaws don’t have the same feeling.” 

Dahlia couldn’t help but agree, though she didn’t say anything to indicate her feelings. The sun was beginning to set, casting beautiful rays of pink and orange and purple across the sky like ribbons in the wind. Eden was still staring up expectantly and Dahlia realized she didn’t have any answers for her. 

“It was peaceful there. Beautiful.” She mumbled, “But it’s no use to dwell. This is our home now.” 

With that, she stood, leaving the naïve, timid girl to herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t like humouring Eden and her questions. In fact, she rather liked talking to the girl. But smoke was rising from the oracles home and that was never a good sign. 

“Princess Dahlia.” One of the hunters, Fig, bowed slightly as he walked past

She simply nodded her head in return, trying to stem the uncomfortable feelings that flooded her at the word. _Princess_. She practically gagged on it. Princess meant staying at home, watching over people, god forbid she had to pick up _stitching_ like her mother used to do. 

The most she could hope to travel, to explore, was to the other major clans, to those of water and those of stone. Although, it didn’t look like there was much choice in the matter. She was an only child and her father, although still strong and proud, was heading into the last span of his life. 

She crossed the threshold of the small village in seconds, coming upon the oracles home and slipping inside without a sound. The house was small (as were all faerie dwellings, taking up the least amount of space to conserve the natural beauty around them) and already it was choked with smoke and what smelled like rotten herbs. 

Dahlias father, a small, aging man with a long grey bread and deep set wrinkles, was already in the corner. He was nearing his 245th birthday, an age, though not unheard of, that was particularly unique to this clan. 

“What’s going on?” she whispered, taking a few steps in his direction until he held up a hand to stop her

His eyes were intent on the oracle, who was sitting on the ground beside the fire, her eyes rolling back in her head. Dahlia stood by silently, biting her lip and occasionally stepping from foot to foot. Oracles made her nervous, not because they could see the future but because their visions were almost always violent, culminating in them hurting themselves and those around them in the process. 

“The darkness.” The oracle froze and her body went rigid, “They are coming.” 

“How long?” Her father whispered, frowning deeply

The oracle seemed not to hear, her body already convulsing. He managed to kneel in front of the possessed woman, grabbing ahold of her shoulder. She shrieked, loud enough for Dahlia to feel her blood grow cold, and then grabbed onto her father with renewed strength, holding him in place. 

“Your fears will come true. She will be taken.” She hissed before she fell back against the ground in a seizure

When she awoke, her eyes were focused again, bright. They landed on Dahlia for a moment and she seemed confused, like perhaps she didn’t know exactly where she was. However, her gaze continued to penetrate the Princess with a strange knowing behind them that made her all the more uncomfortable. 

Dahlia’s father simply glanced back, sighing, as he let his hands fall from her shoulders. His eyebrows knotted as he stood, brushing the dirt from his robes. 

“I hope I was able to help.” The oracle muttered meekly, watching my father leave the small home

“You were.” Dahlia assured her before following after her father

The sunshine outside was blinding as she exited the dark, smoky room. Here, people were going about their business, thriving. There were hunters on the opposite end of the large fountain, preparing for a trip. Nearby, a group of young girls washed laundry and laughed. Eden was among them and she smiled and waved at Dahlia. 

Her father sighed, sitting down on the edge of the fountain slowly. His weary expression couldn’t stop the pounding in Dahlia’s heart. She knew what he would ask and it was hard for her to stop the smile that was beginning to make its way across her face. 

“Dahlia…if the oracle is right, we must move to safety.” He began

She stared up at the fountain to stem the flow of emotions and calm her beating heart. The cool water trickled from a statue of a fair maiden, flanked by several enormous flowers. She was a gift (at least, that’s what Dahlia thought) from whatever ancient group had lived here before. 

“You know I don’t like to ask this of you…” he began but she simply shook her head, turning to face him

“You know that I do it gladly.” She replied

“Yes…that’s what I’m afraid of.” He muttered wearily, “I know that you wish to explore, it’s only natural for someone of your age…but in times like this…”

He trailed off and she ducked her head in shame. Yes, she’d heard this talk many times over. According to her father, times like these were unprecedented, the world was a dangerous place. She found it entirely convenient that her father had spent his young years exploring to his hearts content and yet she was forced into a cage, trapped into a village she’d outgrown. 

“You wish for me to scout a new area?” she asked, gathering her self-control around her like a wall and quickly changing the subject

“I will send Fig with you.” He muttered, “How much time do you need?” 

“How far do you want me to scout?” she challenged, facing him squarely

He sighed, running his fingers through his long, grey hair. The clan had been running since she could remember and thoughts of their first home seemed blurry in her mind. The village had uprooted and resettled itself three different times since then. They were running out of places to go and her father knew it. 

“As far as you need to go.” He replied, “We must have a safe haven. For as long as we can.” 

She nodded, standing. He stood as well, placing a hand on her shoulder. She knew what came next, what always came whenever she left the village for some task, menial or otherwise. 

“Please, daughter. Be careful.” He whispered, “You are the last in line…when I’m gone…”

“I know, father.” She muttered a little too callously 

He simply nodded, letting his hand fall back to his side. She ducked her head and walked off to the side, afraid that perhaps he would change his mind and simply send a band of hunters without her. 

Perhaps, at one point, he’d understand what it meant to leave and explore, how important it might have been to understand the other creatures in this world. But that time had passed long ago and he’d grown hard and secluded in his anger. Where she wanted to learn about other races, he simply wanted to condemn them. 

She silently stepped into her home, one of the biggest though not particularly extravagant by any means, and took the thin, winding stairs to the very top. Their home had been built into one of the largest trees in the area, the trunk measuring well over twenty feet at its base. At the very top of the hollowed out structure (which nearly reached to the top of the trunk) was her room, a small nook with everything she needed. 

There was a hammock against the wall and an enormous window cut out beside it. Many nights she’d spent climbing through it, out into the branches to quench (momentarily at least) her curiosity about the world. 

She kicked open the small trunk in the corner of the room with a sigh, kneeling down in front of it. Inside were the weapons and clothing she was permitted to carry and wear only when she traveled away from the village. Otherwise, the typical royal garments were to be worn. Long draping dresses made of simple, near pastel colours that blended in with the wildflowers in the spring. 

She hated them. 

She hated to be constricted, to wear clothes that survived no purpose. Part of her (as childish as it was) would have been more comfortable in no clothing at all. At least then she could feel the harsh sun on her skin and the silky petals of the white flowers that grew in the back of the village. 

The only thing about being a princess that had ever appealed to her was the fact that she had to get to know every facet of the community that she would eventually rule. To do that, she volunteered with each group of workers, spending a great deal of time with the people while also learning their crafts. 

Sometimes it was tedious work, like the basket makers or those who fixed structures through the village, but she was particularly keen on the hunters and had even taken the hunters oath when she passed her final test so many years ago. That was where she had earned her bow, a beautiful creation made from an ancient tree in their original home, a kind of tree she hadn’t seen since. 

She grabbed it from the trunk, running her fingers over the worn edges, before setting it aside and grabbing an outfit. First, a pale, white dress that was dramatically cut all the way to both armpits, leaving her sides open as it cascaded to her knees. Under that, brown, leather leggings that laced loosely up the sides and a pair of brown leather boots that rose to her knees and buckled in several places to keep them snug. 

Over the top of the dress she wore a leather breast plate, though most of her back and abdomen were covered by only light cloth. Faeries needed to be able to move, especially in the wood, and thick armour didn’t suit her. There was still a bit of old magic left in every faerie, enough to heal minor wounds without the aid of bandages or salves. And so they traded the safety of amour for the freedom that came with lighter clothes. 

Above her somewhat exposed thighs, two daggers were strapped into a thick, leather belt that kept her dress in place. The tiny carvings in the metal glowed very faintly green, some ancient magic the faeries had all but forgotten. They had been passed down to her from her great grandmother and still they were in perfect condition. 

Both hands bore fingerless, brown, leather gloves that made climbing easier and helped with aiming her bow. Her right glove covered her pointer finger, thumb, and middle finger fully to aid with pulling back arrows. 

She slung the bow and a small quiver of arrows onto her back and then glanced up into the mirror again. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid that trailed over her shoulder and she’d placed tiny, metal cuffs throughout it (a detail her mother had taught her when she’d still been alive). Although physically ordinary, at least to other faeries, there was a tell tale mark that set her apart. 

Across her cheeks and up to her forehead, her skin was tinged a dark blue with tiny, white specks she’d only seen the sky mimic twice. The elders in the village guessed that once all faeries had lived in a forest like Lothlorien where even the trees seemed blue. But none could remember ever hearing such a tale and the other factions of faeries had adapted better to their landscape than their forest dwelling kin. Now the only ones with tainted skin were royalty, which did more to keep her front and center in the village. 

Already, she could hear Fig coming in, making himself known. She shared his sentiment for leaving, especially as the sun was beginning to set. They would make better time in the night when it was coolest but it was much more dangerous when your foes could hide in plain sight. 

“Princess?” 

She glanced towards the doorway, tightening her belt slightly and then walking to meet him. He was taller than most faeries (which wasn’t saying much as they were by far the shortest of any race she’d come in contact with) and his light brown hair complimented the freckles across his tanned face. 

“Are you ready?” he added and she nodded, falling into line beside him

They left the village without a backwards glance, beginning on a worn path their people sometimes used when hunting. They passed by a healing spring, protected by the faeries, and paused to fill up a few small flasks. None, save the faeries, knew of these healing springs (of which, a few small drops could easily heal a minor wound). The only other spring she knew of had been in her old village and it was now overtaken by darkness and could no longer produce healing water. The elders sometimes talked of a way to create healing springs, but she didn’t know how and she doubted they did either.

“Where shall we head?” Fig paused, staring out at the forest in front of them 

“Father says we’re to go as far as need be.” She replied, “We have to find somewhere safe.” 

“What if there isn’t a safe place to be found?” he asked quietly, almost soft enough for her to have passed over it completely

“I don’t know.” She admitted, equally quietly, and then they lapsed into silence

For three days they trekked with relative ease, hunting when they needed to and camping when they were tired. In a wisp form, she was able to travel much faster, but Fig and many of the other hunters had never mastered the art. It was, as far as she knew, saved for royalty. 

There were few creatures in the deep forest but she knew it wouldn’t last. It never had before. After a week, Fig began growing restless. There were several spots he thought looked “good enough” but she wasn’t nearly so convinced. 

“You can go back, if you want.” She retorted during a particularly hot day, sweat beading at the edge of her hair, “I can go on without you.” 

“Your father would have my neck.” He replied, equally annoyed

She let a butterfly drift to her fingertips and then glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. He froze, his eyes wandering to the butterfly and then back to me. 

“I’ll send him a message. Explain that I wanted to chart ahead but that we’d found a few suitable places. You can show him on a map.” She mumbled, “Fair?” 

Fig watched her carefully and then sighed, shoving his fingers through his curly locks. He looked ashamed though not completely turned off by the idea. She took another step forward, the butterfly still resting softly in her hand. 

“It’s all right.” She cooed, “This is what I want.” 

“If your majesty wills it.” He replied, sighing

She whispered the message to the butterfly and then let it go, watching it spiral away and then hurry off in the direction they’d come. No doubt it would make better time than Fig would. 

“I bid you farewell.” She curtsied, forcing herself to stop the sarcastic twitch that ran up her spine

“Princess.” He grabbed her arm, “Please…be careful.” 

“I will.” 

And with that, she transformed into a wisp and darted through the trees as a singular, tiny, ball of light. After a few hours, she turned back into her normal form, staring around at the darkening forest. The trees here were old, exceptionally old, and she could sense a certain intelligence beneath their bark. She must have traveled hundreds of miles, she wagered, much farther than her father would have allowed.

Her canteen was nearly empty and her growling stomach reminded her that while traveling as a wisp was faster, it often drained her of more energy. She scowled lightly and tried to find a water source to fill her canteen again. When there wasn’t one in the immediate area, she employed the help of the faeries oldest allies. 

“Excuse me?” the tree rustled to life as she touched its trunk, the eyes slowly opening and its branches reaching to their full potential

“Hmmm…” his voice was drawn out and deep, “A faerie…this far into the woods? How peculiar.” 

“I’m on a mission.” She explained with a shrug, “And I’d very much like your permission to climb your branches to get a better vantage point.” 

“Hmm…I will do more…than that I think.” And with that he brought down a branch and she gingerly stepped onto it

The ent lifted her far above the ground and above the other trees as well. Wind that she hadn’t felt in days blew past, cooling her face and neck. She took a moment to enjoy it, closing her eyes. 

“What is it…that you seek?” the ent asked below, yawning

“Water.” She replied, “And a place to camp.” 

“To…the west.” He replied, “There is…a meadow now far from here.” 

She turned her gaze to the west and sure enough there seemed to be a break in the trees not far from where she was. The ent dropped her to the ground and she smiled, patting his bark affectionately. 

“Thank you very much.” 

“No need…for thank yous.” He replied, “We ents…have always had good…relations with faeries.” 

She nodded as he straightened back up, his eyes drooping again as he fell back asleep. She continued the rest of her journey on foot, scared that she might miss the meadow in wisp form. Another hour of hiking and she made it, collapsing next to the small stream to drink. The meadow was small but it left room enough for her to camp, setting up a small fire near the banks of the stream as the nights chill began to set in. 

Even out here, alone, she felt at ease, peaceful. Natural places were her home and they made her feel protected. The creak of the trees above as they swayed in the wind, the soft grass underfoot, they were all welcome to her. 

She cooked some of the last deer meat Fig and she had hunted, chewing it thoughtfully as she leaned back against a rock formation at the top of the stream. A few more days, that was all the time she could spare before her father began sending butterfly messages of his own (and perhaps a search party if she was especially lucky). 

She figured she could find a place by then and if she didn’t, there were the places Fig had found. She stared up at the sky, the stars already out, brilliantly piercing through the veil to her world. 

Her mother had told her as a child that the stars mimicked the marks on her cheeks in envy but try as they might, they’d never be as beautiful. Some nights, like tonight, she missed her mother desperately. 

In the dark, the landscape seemed different and she took a few minutes to explore her surroundings. The stream seemed to come from an enormous body of water a few hundred feet away that rose up into cliffs. The water splashed down from a waterfall and, behind it, she found a beautiful, glittering cave. 

Farther out from the meadow, a thick forest bloomed and she could see no signs of outside races having trampled through it. Perhaps she had found a new place without even trying. She managed to make it back to the clearing before she collapsed, exhausted. She neared sleep when a rustling in the bushes jolted her to life. 

The arrow was already fitted to her bow as she stood; ready to hit whatever disturbed the quiet. It surprised her when an enormous black bear shuffled through, baring its teeth. It growled loudly but didn’t take another step in her direction. 

She took a step back, eyebrows furrowing. What did it want? She had no food left and the fire that might have attracted all sorts of wildlife had died long ago. More than this, faeries had a unique understanding with the forest and all that inhabited it. Never did they hunt more than they needed and in return they protected the wildlife around them. Bears had never been a threat. 

And yet this one was different. He shuffled forward again and she noticed the arrows that were already in him, pointing out jaggedly in his legs and chest. He was being hunted…

She looked up in time to see them, two orcs with grey faces and pointed teeth. One pointed another arrow at the bear and she fired, slicing through his right eye into his brain. The other shrieked in protest, grabbing his sword and rushing towards her. 

She jumped to the side at the last minute, rolling, and then fired an arrow from her position on the ground. It lunged into his neck and he fell away, choking on his own blood. She managed to crawl over to the bear quietly, tossing her bow to the side in the process and gently placing a hand on his face, despite the light growl he emitted. 

“It’s all right.” She whispered, “You’re going to be okay. You’re…” 

Her mouth opened but no words spilled out. The bear shuddered and then the thick, black fur began to retract away. The claws turned to hands and his face became defined and taut. 

“You’re a man.” She could barely breathe the words, her heart quickening

He groaned, arrows still sticking out in strange places, blood showing more clearly on his bare skin. She scrambled to her feet, terrified for a moment. Never had she been so close to another race, and never to a human. He turned over onto his back, his shaggy, black hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead as he hissed in a breath.

“Leave me be, nymph.” He growled, glaring

“I…I’m going to help you.” She decided, not bothering to correct him

“I don’t need ah-!” his voice cut off as she touched an arrow, quirking an eyebrow in response

Taking the arrows out would be the hardest part and the part that obviously annoyed him the most. She did so as quickly as possible, afraid that he might change back into a bear and attack her at any moment. When they were gone, she cleaned up the wounds with some of his torn shirt and then used one of the flasks of healing water to drip into each wound. 

“Where are you staying?” she asked, pressing a light bandage against each open wound

“You need not concern yourself.” He grumbled through gritted teeth, never ceasing to glare at me

“If you stay out here, you will die.” She reasoned, “There are other animals that would gladly feast upon a feeble man.” 

“I am not feeble.” 

She rolled her eyes in response, shaking her head. Finally, he sighed, managing to sit up on his own. The water must have been working faster than even she thought possible (or else he possessed incredible strength of will). She grabbed her things as he pushed himself to his feet, swaying precariously, and then grabbed hold of his arm. 

He used her as a crutch, though he grumbled to himself about it the whole way, and they made it to his cabin in the woods in no time. She managed to get him through the doorway and then he crashed into a bed in the corner, his eyes rolling back into his head. 

It was then that she realized how foolish she had been. Not only had she interacted with another race, but she’d picked to interact with one that was particularly dangerous and foreign. And yet…something kept her there. 

She sat down in a chair, propping herself up and laying her bow across her lap to rest until morning. Her eyes drooped but never fell and by the time he stirred again, she was still awake, though exhausted. His eyes slowly opened and then he sat up quickly, staring over at her. She pulled back an arrow without a second thought, a precaution, and watched him carefully. 

“I’m sorry I frightened you. That was not my intent.” He murmured

“You could have killed me!” she retorted, glaring

“And kill you I could, even now.” He shrugged, “Yet…we are speaking.” 

She slowly lowered her bow. His voice was calming, like weathered rocks on a mountainside or waves crashing on the shore. She could feel the nature written into his bones and it comforted her. 

“What is it you seek in these dark woods?” he asked after a moment, stretching his sore limbs

“Safety…for my people.” She answered, honestly

“It’s dangerous for a woman to be traveling alone.” He commented, raising his eyebrows

“I’m not your average woman.” She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest

“No, I suppose not.” 

He stood, towering over her. She would have been lying if she said she wasn’t frightened with only a few arrows left and two small daggers to defend herself with. 

“And what is it you wish for, she-dwarf?” 

“I am no she-dwarf.” She prickled, glaring

“Hmm.” He scoffed, nearly rolling his eyes as he hobbled to the fireplace

“How do you turn into a bear?” she asked after a moment, her curiosity getting the better of her

“Perhaps I am a bear.” He replied with a smirk

“Then how do you turn into a human?” she snapped

“You wish to become a skin changer?” 

“Wha-…no…I didn’t…” and she didn’t, not really

“You can’t.” he muttered, “Have to be born into it.” 

She sighed, rolling her eyes. Perhaps saving this stupid man…bear…whatever, had been a mistake. He poked at the fire absentmindedly, sending up a spark. 

“I suppose I’ll be off.” She grumbled, pulling her bow over her back 

“Wait.” His voice was commanding, strong once more despite the way he hunched over slightly

“You require a place for your people.” He mumbled, “What people?” 

“The woodland faeries.” She replied, offering no other explanation

He turned, suddenly curious, his eyes tracing over her face. She held her ground, never one to back down from a fight, even one she had no hope of winning. He seemed to believe her though he frowned prominently. 

“The faeries are extinct.” 

“Some yet live.” She countered, squaring her shoulders

It was a harsh reality, one she didn’t dwell on frequently. There were two clans in the woods, including her own, and their numbers grew smaller by the year. The water faeries had diminished to three clans and that was only because they were ruthless in keeping their numbers. The mountain faeries fared worst of all, with only one small clan, and no one knew where it was anymore. 

“Your people may stay in my woods.” He whispered suddenly, “I know what it is to be hunted…to be the last of your kin.” 

She found truth in his statement and sadness crept into her soul. If he was the only one left…

What a lonely life he led. 

“I will protect them to the best of my abilities.” He added, glancing over

“They are slow to trust.” She whispered

“As am I…and yet here we are.” 

She managed a small smile and he turned to the fire to hide whatever expression had crossed his face. He nodded towards a small stash of weapons he had obviously stolen and she grabbed a few more arrows to add to her own quiver. Finally, she turned to face him again. 

“My name is Dahlia…and on behalf of my people, I wish to thank you.” She bowed slightly and he glanced over with a perplexed expression

“Spoken like royalty…they really are _your_ people aren’t they?”

She paled slightly, ducking her head down with a blush. He clicked his tongue nearly silently and then stood at his full height to face her. 

“You may call me, Beorn.” He stated “And in exchange for saving my life, I will do all I can for your people.” 

“Thank you.” She whispered, staring up at him 

He nodded, retreating to his bed, and she took the cue to leave. She slipped out the front door, pausing to stare around the dark forest. The faeries could bring light here once more, she was sure of that, but could Beorn actually protect them? And harder still, would her father even allow him to try? 

She wasn’t sure but it seemed to be their only shot. So without a second thought, she transformed into a wisp and flew home as fast as she could.


	2. Dwarves

“You talked to an outsider!” Her father’s rage was not entirely unexpected, “You told him of us? What if he comes? You could have created _another_ enemy…”

“He will not come because he does not know where we are.” She reasoned, “And anyway, he is the last of his kind…he understands…”

“He understands nothing!” Her father slammed his fist against the table, glaring

“ _You_ understand nothing!” she countered, “I am offering safety for our people and you throw it back in my face. Do you care so little for them?”

“You will not speak to me this way.” He hissed, “I am your father and more than that, I am your king.” 

Tears were already beginning to rise in her eyes. Why had she thought he would understand? She realized, too late, that she should have simply shown him another of the spots that she and Fig had found days before and been done with it. The rest of the story need not been told. 

She took a shaky breath, trying to bite back the tears, and then stormed out of the house. He didn’t bother stopping her, and she rushed into the village. Eden tried to stop her, a lingering smile on her face, but Dahlia pushed past her without a thought. Her father’s home had been her first stop, she hadn’t even taken the time to change or eat. Now she saw it had all been a mistake. 

When she was far enough away she transformed into a wisp, darting through the trees rapidly. When she had calmed down enough, she floated lazily between them, dipping to the ground and then up through the branches. It gave her time to think, especially in this form, when it was less dangerous to be about in the forest. 

He was a stubborn old man, one who clung to the old ways, and he couldn’t accept that she was nothing like him. She was like her mother, who escaped every full moon to discover another hidden gem in their forest. Sometimes she would drag Dahlia’s father along, no doubt to some romantic getaway. He had never once questioned her; he even encouraged her. Where had that man gone?

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely noticed the two dwarves huddled together in front of her, staring out at the clearing beyond. Despite her better judgment, or perhaps because she could still feel her fathers harsh words biting into her skin, she stopped just in front of them. 

“What’s that?” The first asked, cocking his head to the side and staring up at the ball of light in front of him 

“It’s…a wisp.” She was impressed that he knew

“What’s a wisp?” the first asked, continuing to stare

Of course, she wasn’t blind, and she realized right away that most of this was directly in response to her father’s outrage. She would put herself in a little danger, prove to no one but herself that other races weren’t really to be feared, and then have it out of her system by sunrise when her father made some small effort at apologizing. She floated back behind them, pleased when their eyes followed, and then ducked behind a tree out of view to transform into my regular form. 

“They say wisps are old spirits who watch over the forest.” The second replied, shrugging and shifting to a more comfortable position now that he couldn’t see her

“Not exactly true.” She mumbled, leaving her hiding place and leaning coyly against the tree

The first spun around, his dark hair whipping from his face. Already he had an arrow pointed at her face but she merely smirked and raised an eyebrow. The blonde seemed to have more sense, though he reached for his sword nonetheless. 

“Who are you?” The blonde asked, taking a step towards her

“What are you doing here all alone?” she asked, ignoring his question and silently stepping through to separate them 

“Guarding the ponies.” The dark haired one said, fumbling to keep the arrow trained on me as I walked between them 

“Guarding…ponies?” She mumbled, unimpressed, “A boys job. And yet there are two supposed men here.” 

“It’s an important job!” the second retorted, puffing his chest out slightly

“Shut up, Kili.” The other jabbed at him, deflating him a bit, “Now that you know where we’re camping, we can’t permit you to leave.” 

“Is that so?” She smirked, “I’d like to see you try.” 

“We don’t fight girls.” The other, this Kili, muttered with a sideways glance at the blonde

“Probably a good decision on your part.” She muttered, taking a step away from them 

“Hey!” he whirled around, pointing the arrow back at my face

“Just come with us quietly.” The blonde muttered, holding his sword out with balanced practice

“No.” She replied, testing their reactions

“…Please?” Kili tried, hopeful as he raised both eyebrows

“Afraid not.” She replied with a grin

“What is it you want from us?” The blonde asked, taking a step to mimic the one she’d taken back 

“From you? Nothing.” She replied, truthfully, “You were simply in my path…and I was curious.” 

“And now?” Kili mumbled, frowning

“Now…I’ll be on my way again.” She shrugged, turning to go

It only sort of surprised her when she felt the light knock of steel against her shoulder. He was testing her, resting the sword precariously close to her throat as though that might be threat enough to make her give in. She sighed, turning back to face them with an unimpressed expression. 

The other was ready to fire an arrow, though he seemed less enthusiastic than before, and his comrade seemed hell bent on bringing her to whatever camp they had come from. The idea of seeing other creatures like them was tempting, but the idea of being a prisoner was not. 

“Very well.” She muttered, grabbing a dagger from her hip and deflecting the sword, tossing it to the ground

He went to grab it but she was faster, more nimble, and he threw it out into the woods. He chased it like a dog and the other dwarf finally gained his senses and shot an arrow towards her. She bent back, watching it fly above her, and then tossed a dagger at him, pinning him to a tree. 

She took a breath when the clearing was silent again, nearly grinning to herself. The other dwarf was still chasing after his damn sword (she hadn’t realized it had fallen so far down the hill when she threw it) and this first dwarf, Kili, wasn’t going anywhere. She straightened, brushing herself off and then turned to face him with dark eyes. 

“I’m going to need that.” She pointed to the dagger with a smile as he struggled

His bow was on the ground and she’d pinned his cloth to the tree (a happy accident since she didn’t really mean to harm either of them). It looked like he was going to say something, perhaps call to the other dwarf (or whatever dwarves were also lurking nearby) but she took a step closer, pressing a finger to his lips with one hand and using the other to press his chest back against the tree. 

“Shh, shh.” She grabbed the hilt of the dagger, “Thanks for the practice.” 

And with that she pulled the dagger away and released him, sauntering to the other end of the clearing. 

“Stop.” His voice cracked slightly and she glanced back, frowning

Already he had another arrow out and his friend was coming back up the hill. He seemed unsure, not ready to fire the arrow in her direction. Perhaps her little display of girlish drama had had an effect. She placed her hand on the first tree branch she could reach, waiting for them to make a move. 

They both glanced at each other, suddenly a lot less interested in taking her captive. _Who are they trying to impress anyway?_ she found herself wondering as her fingers tightened on the branch. Still, their moment of indecisiveness had given her enough time to lift herself into the tree and disappear. Being able to climb trees was a specialty of the woodland faeries; they could practically fly between branches, never touching the ground. 

“She’s up there.” Kili was yelling and she felt an arrow whoosh by, though not close enough to cause her concern

She transformed into a wisp, leaving the dwarves in a much better mood than she’d been in before. There was no reason for her to hurry home, and maybe she liked the idea of her father worrying, and so she floated up the hill to the very top and transformed back, sitting down lightly in the grass to watch the stars overhead. 

Eventually, she knew, she would have to go back. Perhaps, she pondered, she would swing back by to see the dwarves one last time, just to watch them, before she was locked away for god knows how long. This little stunt, and her father’s outburst, might’ve been enough to send her away with the priests for a few weeks. 

She rolled her eyes, focusing on the sky. It would be morning soon, in an hour or so it seemed. She stood, stretching quietly as she debated on whether or not to go home. 

“Ah, careful now.” 

She whipped around in time to see a flash of white light and then a strange tugging feeling enveloped her. It felt as though her body was being separated from her skin. She gasped, falling to her knees and glaring up at the old man in front of her. 

She tried in vain to transform into a wisp, over and over again, but it didn’t work, the spell keeping her in form. He hobbled over quietly. In meager, gray robes it was obvious he concealed much more power than he let on. 

“Who are you?” She stood her ground, dragging herself back to her feet

“Some call me, Gandalf.” He replied with a shrug

“A wizard.” She spat, frowning

He smiled, his bright eyes twinkling in the coming light. The sky was beginning to streak with light shades of pink and orange. Well, if her father wasn’t mad before, he would certainly be livid now. 

“What do you want?” She asked, turning back to face him 

“In simple terms…you.” 

“Me?” She took a step backwards, edging to the Cliffside

Her fight or flight instinct was taking over and it cemented her in place. Not being able to turn into a wisp made her powerless to run away, and something told her that the old man in front of her was stronger than even she suspected. Still, could she win in a fight against him if she was quick enough? He seemed to realize what she was thinking because he took a step forward, his expression suddenly serious and the grip on his staff tightening. 

“You are Princess Dahlia, are you not?” 

She froze, eyes narrowing. None but the other faeries knew her name (well, Beorn now too she reasoned). Even less knew she was a princess. She frowned crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I prefer Dahlia.” She muttered sarcastically, brushing a strand piece of hair from her face

“Yes…of course.” Although he was still watching her, he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, “You’re alone here?”

“Yes.” She replied without thinking

She wouldn’t risk alerting him to the rest of the village, not ever. If he was to take her prisoner, fine, but she wouldn’t endanger the lives of her people. He took another step closer and this time she stayed in place, squaring her shoulders again. 

“What do you want?” She asked again, glaring

“Your help.” He replied, “Specifically, I need a guide through this forest.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m on an important quest.” He replied, “I aid a party of dwarves. Something tells me you’ve seen them.” 

“You should know that faeries don’t have dealings with other races.” She replied with a shrug, “I cannot help you.” 

“It was not always this way.” He replied softly

“But…it is now.” She stuttered, biting her lip

“You are…different.” He mumbled, “What’s changed you?”

“You…you don’t know me.” She retorted, finally take a step back 

“I _do_ , in fact.” He nodded, “ I knew your grandfather and your mother. I met you when you were but a child.” 

“I…no…you…” 

“Your grandfather had many dealings with other races.” He continued, “I met him in your first homeland.” 

She simply stared back at him blankly. She couldn’t remember ever meeting the man in front of her…though her grandfather had always been a stain on her family’s reputation according to her father. 

_”You can’t afford to trust them.” He would say, “They will always look after their own before you.”_

She glanced behind her, at the enormous expanse of trees, the hiding places only faeries knew. With her back turned to him, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose and exhaling slowly. When she turned back to him he was still watching her, nearly smiling. 

“I’m guessing I won’t be able to turn back into a wisp unless you let me?” she grumbled, frustrated

His smile faltered slightly and he faced her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. Finally, he gestured to the staff in his hand and shook his head. 

“I’ll keep your light for now.” He replied, “But be assured that you will receive it once we are out of this forest.” 

She glared, fists bunching, though she dared not fight him. He was obviously much stronger, much wiser, and if he had indeed known her grandfather…

And anyways, it was only a weeks journey to the edge of the forest, even with slow moving dwarves and an old man. She tried to look on the bright side, tried to see it as a chance to explore. Wasn’t this what she wanted?

_Not this way._ She reminded herself

“I don’t see much other choice than to help you.” She muttered

She couldn’t return home without her light, she couldn’t face her father like that. Especially if he came to learn the exact terms of how she’d lost it. Gandalf simply smiled. 

“So.” She sighed through her teeth, “What would you have me do?” 

He motioned for her to follow and she slowly shuffled after him. He crossed the hill and then pushed aside a few tree branches, pointing to the dark clearing below. She didn’t recognize the people below, though they were obviously a large group of dwarves. 

Some were bagged and set off to the side while others were tied to a skewer, slowly roasting over a fire. Above them, three, monstrous trolls stood about, waiting for their meals. 

“Distract them for as long as you can.” Gandalf commanded, “We must wait for sunlight.” 

“It would be easier if I had my light” she reasoned, frowning

“I will be watching.” He said with a raise of his eyebrow, knocking his staff against her head slightly

A cooling feeling blanketed over her and she sighed in relief, glad to have it back. Gandalf stalked off into the bushes before she could say another word and she sat for a moment, planning her line of attack. It was only when she saw the bright, orange flowers off to her left that she realized she would have to send something to her father to keep him from losing his mind. 

The flowers were a particular favourite of the butterflies in the area and she waited patiently for one to emerge from the depths. It wandered lazily towards her and she cupped it gently in her hands, holding it close. 

“I…father I…” Her words felt choked, “I will be gone for a couple of weeks. Don’t worry, I’m not in any danger. Please, don’t be angry. I have to do this.” 

She paused, staring down at the butterfly, at the intricate patterns across its wings. She closed her eyes, sighing, and then, “I love you. No matter what.” 

And then she let it fly free. She wondered if he would come after her, it wouldn’t be hard for him to catch up if he were a wisp. But would he? She doubted it. He would never abandon his people without her there, not even for a day. 

Not even for his daughter. 

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!” 

“I’ve got the biggest parasites!” 

The voices tore her away from her own melancholy and she edged back to the clearing. The dwarves on the ground were squirming, yelling at each other and at the trolls who seemed to be paying them little attention. She sighed, taking a step from the edge of the hill and landing silently onto a branch in a tree above them. 

She was right above the middle troll and she took a breath before jumping, landing squarely on his shoulder. He whirled around at the impact and she took the surprise to race down his extended arm, somersaulting in the air and landing with a gentle thud on the ground. 

“Wha’s that?” one asked, pointing a spoon at her

“Another dwarf?” another grumbled, drooling on himself

“Can we eat it too?” the last asked, peering down at her

“Not today.” She replied, grabbing an arrow and shooting the last right in the eye

He spun around, crying out, and then they were all after her. She ducked beneath their legs, small and fast enough to run just beyond their reach. They tripped over themselves trying to catch her, the ground shaking from their impact. She reached for the trees and swung herself up, spinning around the edge of a branch and landing on top of it with ease. 

One crashed into the tree mindlessly, snapping the branch without a second thought. She tumbled to the ground, groaning, before transforming into a wisp. She danced between them, much too fast for them to catch. 

And then, suddenly, Gandalf was there. He cracked open a rock and sunlight poured through to the center of the clearing, turning the trolls all to stone. 

She shifted back towards the tree, still in wisp form as the dwarves began untying each other. It crossed her mind to leave, to run. _He’d never catch me_ she thought, pushing herself back slightly. 

As if reading her thoughts he turned towards her, slamming his staff on the ground with an impressive bang. She collapsed in the center of the clearing, her light gone again, glaring down at her hands. 

“Manners, Dahlia. We must never forget our courtesies.” 

She simply rolled her eyes, pushing herself to her feet again and brushing the dirt from her clothes. 

“Who is this?” he seemed to be the leader and his eyes narrowed dramatically on her

“Hey!” One of the dwarves stumbled forward and she recognized him as Kili, the younger dwarf she had pinned to the tree, “I know you!” 

She managed a sarcastic curtsy towards him and then resumed her position with her arms over her chest. He didn’t seem put off by the gesture like she thought he would, he simply grinned cheekily instead.

“This is Dahlia…” She silently thanked Gandalf for not saying _princess_

“A she-dwarf?” A voice from the back asked, not able to see her past the group of dwarves

“I’m not a she-dwarf.” She replied heatedly, grinding her teeth

“What is she?” Another asked, cocking his head to the side

“A faerie.” The leader answered, “You insult us by bringing her here.” 

“Oh well, you’re _welcome_ for saving all your asses.” 

The group fell silent, glancing at the leader and then amongst each other. Apparently it wasn’t customary to talk down to their leader, perhaps their king. He acted like a king anyway. 

“I invited her to stay.” Gandalf continued as though no one else had spoken

“What?” The leader nearly choked, “You didn’t think to ask me?” 

“No.” Gandalf replied airily, “You need a guide through the forest. No one knows it better.” 

“First the Halfling, now this.” The leader huffed, “She will not slow us down.” 

She let out a singular “ha” at the thought and he stalked away into the woods. The rest of the dwarves shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to do now that their leader had vanished, or else they stared blatantly at her. 

“Make camp here.” Gandalf muttered, “We’ll rest until the sun is fully up and then continue on our journey.”

Gandalf stalked off after their leader and the rest of the dwarves quickly made themselves busy setting up the camp. Dahlia stepped off to the side, unsure as to what to do. She felt no immediate bond with any of them, though she found it oddly fascinating to watch them work together like a cohesive unit. She assumed they would be hostile (especially after how she’d treated the first two in the woods) but there was something different in their murmurings. 

They simply seemed curious, unsure perhaps. They made a fire in the middle of the small camp and the largest of them began to cook. They were quick to separate into groups, some lounging around the fire, some gathering wood, others still talking about how they’d outwitted a troll. 

“Eh girl, you got any meat on you?” the cook asked

She flared immediately; ready to tell him off for insulting her stature and size when she realized he was pointing to her small pack and the squirrel tail that was hanging out of it. She sighed, reluctantly handing over the two rabbits and squirrel she’d caught earlier in the day. 

“Aye, these’ll do.” He began to skin them expertly while warming up the pot, “The name’s Bombur.” 

“Erm…nice to meet you.” 

She thought about retreating back to the edge of the camp, making her own camp in the trees, before she realized how childish it would have seemed. So she sank down onto a log nearby, finding her tongue dry and too heavy in her mouth. 

“Dahlia was it?” Bombur seemed to find conversation easily

“Yes.” She replied, “I’m afraid everyone here has me at a bit of a disadvantage.” 

“Easily fixed!” He laughed and it set her more at ease, “There’s Nori, Dori, Ori.” 

The group watched her slightly, grinning and cocking their heads to the side. They seemed the least impaired (beside Bombur) to having a faerie amongst them. Ori even seemed to be taking notes on her. 

“And then we have Bofur and Bifur.” They eyed her suspiciously but managed a wave all the same

“Gloin and Oin.” They nodded seriously and then went back to whatever conversation they were having

“Over there’s Balin, some call him the wisest…and Dwalin, some call him the strongest.” Bombur laughed and Balin offered a small smile and a wave while Dwalin ignored her completely

“And I believe you’ve already met Fili and Kili.” The two popped their heads on either side of the fire and waved, having apparently forgotten their previous encounter

“And your leader?” She asked, glancing at Bombur again

“Ah, that’d be Thorin.” He replied, shaking spices into the bubbling water

“And you?” I turned to see the last of the group, “You’re no dwarf.” 

“I…I’m a hobbit, actually.” He replied nervously, “And my name is Bilbo Baggins.” 

“It’s…a pleasure to meet you all.” She muttered, trying to be polite, especially if she had to spend the next week with them

She’d never seen so many dwarves and although it probably should have made her uncomfortable, she found herself more curious than anything else. She wanted to figure them out, figure out what made them tick. She settled back on the log, watching them carefully.

“So…this quest.” She mumbled, “Where are you going?” 

“Gandalf didn’t tell you?” Bombur asked, frowning

“We’re heading to the Lonely Mountain.” Balin answered, “To reclaim our rightful land.” 

She raised an eyebrow, surprised. Everyone knew Smaug ruled over the Lonely Mountain of Erebor and it seemed a daft idea to fight a dragon. She didn’t know the whole story, not really, but she’d heard stories of dragons from the travellers she spied on. 

Even faeries feared dragons. 

“And…how are you going to go about that?” she asked, frowning

“Well…” Balin seemed at a loss and the rest of the group remained silent

“We’re going to slay the dragon!” Kili finally stated, dragging a war cry from some of the other dwarves

Fili grinned, punching Kili’s arm in celebration and the others smiled at one another. She nodded, slowly and purposefully, and then relaxed against the log again. She didn’t believe they could fight a dragon but maybe it didn’t matter. After all, she only had to get them out of the woods and then she was free. Perhaps one day she would hear great tales of their triumph. 

Perhaps she wouldn’t. 

The bubbling strew brought her out of her thoughts as her stomach twisted into knots. She was more than grateful when Bombur dipped out a heaping bowl and offered it to her. 

“Ladies first.” He hummed with a smile

“Thank you.” 

Kili and Fili gradually managed to weasel their way closer, sitting down beside her with bowls of stew in their hands. Despite them saying nothing, she still felt a pang of guilt, especially when she noticed the tear in Kili’s tunic. 

“I…I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.” She mumbled, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.” 

“S’okay.” Kili replied happily, slurping at his stew

“Yeah, no harm done.” Fili added, grinning, “Although in a fair fight we definitely would have won.”

She grinned back, relaxing considerably. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible to travel with these dwarves after all.


	3. Fairytales

“We’re leaving.” Thorin made his way back to the clearing at the rest of the dwarves were finishing their stew

Dahlia stood, running her fingertips over her daggers and bow, over the pouches on the left side of her belt, making sure everything was there. The rest of the company rushed to clean up or put out the fire or pack away things they’d taken out when they rested as Thorin began to walk away. 

Somehow, she managed to fall somewhere in the middle of the group as they began trudging through the forest, though Gandalf frequently stopped to ask her questions on directions they needed to be taking. For hours they walked, never stopping, always pushing forward. 

Their slow pace frustrated her to some extent but she never voiced her concerns. Occasionally she would find herself a few steps behind Thorin, though he rarely spoke to her and chose to send her messages through Gandalf or Kili or Fili like a child. 

Finally, when the sky began to darken, they stopped and set up another camp. She didn’t blame them as it was dangerous to travel through the woods at night, especially for those who were unfamiliar with it. Kili offered to hunt and she joined him, despite Thorin’s scoff, if for no other reason than to get some time nearly by herself. Together, they scouted a ways away from the group, staring out into the darkness. 

“What’re you doing?” She suddenly asked as Kili crouched in the tall grass ahead

“There’s a deer over there.” He replied, glancing back

“You’re going to scare it.” She retorted, “C’mon.” 

She had seen the deer before he had and had been coming up with a plan to kill it before he had a chance to scare it away. She grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back towards a tree nearby and pointing to the first branch. He slowly climbed up, careful to be silent, and she followed, kneeling beside him. 

He steadied himself, grabbing her shoulder for an instant to keep from falling, and then watched her carefully as she drew out an arrow and lined it up with her bow. The deer continued to move closer, going after the small, red berries that lined the tall grasses. 

“It’s easier to catch them unaware from up above.” She breathed, pulling the arrow back 

The string of the bow pressed against her lip, a comforting feeling, and then she let it go. The arrow sailed straight, sure, and hit the deer in the neck, killing it. Kili grinned and even in the dark she could see it. 

“Not bad, Lady Dahlia.” 

She flinched at the name, shrugging as she walked over to their prize. He lifted it easily, which she was more than grateful for, and slung it over his shoulders as they began to walk back to camp. 

“Where’d you learn to hunt?” he asked after a moment, no longer fearing alerting the rest of the wildlife around them 

“We have hunters in my village…I learned from them.” She replied

“So your family…they’re hunters then?” he asked, glancing over

She nearly tripped, paling slightly. Kili didn’t seem to notice, repositioning the deer to a more comfortable place on his shoulders. 

“I…no.” she admitted, “My family aren’t hunters.” 

“Oh.” He seemed to know not to push because he quickly changed the subject, ‘Fili taught me…though I think I’m better than he is now.” 

She smiled, glad to have the attention shift in another direction. She still felt bad giving away tiny details about her people, about her family. Her fathers prejudice was still engrained in her bones, making her wary. Her fathers secrets were her own. 

“Fili’s your brother?” she asked, starved for conversation after the long, nearly silent trek

“Yeah.” He replied, “And Thorin is our uncle.” 

“Is he a king?” she asked, finally voicing what she assumed to be true

Kili’s laugh was booming and it made her smile. He seemed to laugh and grin easily and every time she felt the infectious urge to join him. “Is it so obvious?” he sighed, “He’s the closest thing we have to a father, Fili and I.” 

She nodded, understanding what it was to lose a parent. Kili sighed, staring off into nothing for a moment. When he smiled again, it was forced and she couldn’t help but frown in return. 

“Thorin will be impressed that you shot this.” He mumbled, “He’ll be very pleased.” 

As they neared camp, she noticed Kili straighten up slightly, glancing over at Thorin and waiting for him to notice. She felt oddly connected to Kili in that moment, both of them trying to please parental figures who seemed like they couldn’t be pleased. 

“You found a deer?” Bombur asked, excited, already pulling it from Kili

“Kili did.” She lied easily, “He shot it.” 

Kili glanced back at her with a disbelieving expression and then turned to face Thorin just like she knew he would. Thorin simply nodded and Kili grinned, glancing back at her once more before he went to join Fili. She knew those little moments meant the world to him because that’s what they meant to her when her father admitted some sort of pride for her. 

She collapsed at the edge of the group, stretching her legs out to their full extent as her joints popped in protest. She noticed Balin nearby, sewing what appeared to be a tunic, and an idea struck her. 

“Balin?” he glanced her in direction, “May I borrow your needle and thread?” 

“Of course, milady.” He replied, tying off whatever he was working on and handing them over

She retreated back to her spot, leaning hard against a log and waiting patiently. It didn’t take to spot Kili and she motioned for him to come over. He collapsed beside her, his cheeks flushed slightly from sitting so near to the fire, and a smile still plastered over his face. 

“Thank you...you know.” He whispered, shrugging slightly and rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment 

“Don’t thank me yet.” She motioned for him to come closer 

Gently and quickly she began to sew up the small mark on her shoulder where her dagger had cut through the previous night. She closed it up easily, biting the end of the string to break it and slowly pulling away to survey her work. He tested it out, moving his arm up and down. 

“Even?” she asked, smiling 

“Even.” He nodded and they shook hands, walking over towards the fire together 

“Mr. Baggins?” She felt far more talkative now that she was beginning to get used to the dwarves and their hobbit companion

He glanced over at the noise, moving his pack so that she could sit beside him. Out of all of the group, Bilbo seemed to be the most mysterious, seeing as she’d never even heard of a hobbit before meeting him. She settled down beside him, knawing on the deer meat that Bombur had prepared. 

“Why are you here?” She murmured, glancing over curiously so as not to offend

“Well…I suppose that’s a fair question.” He replied, “I’m not quite sure myself.” 

“Did they recruit you?” She asked

“Yes…though not in the same way as you I presume.” He gave a small smile

“No…I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” She replied with a shrug, frowning at nothing in particular

“They gave me a choice…they need someone small and inconspicuous. A burglar…at least, that’s what they’re calling me.”

She grinned, trying to imagine the small man stealing anything at all. She couldn’t understand what use they had with such a small, feeble creature…but then she reminded herself that others often thought the same of her. Nonetheless, she felt drawn to him. 

“I had never heard of hobbits before meeting you.” She admitted after a moment, “I’m afraid we faeries tend to keep to ourselves.” 

“As do hobbits.” He quipped, “We’re not too terribly interesting…many never leave The Shire.” 

He paused, his face growing dark. She frowned at the expression, much preferring when he was happy and joking. He glanced around, as though frightened one of the dwarves may be listening in, and then sighed, sinking back against the log he was propped against. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I left The Shire at all.” 

“Well…why did you?” she mumbled

“Adventure…perhaps.” He whispered, “There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to see the world.” 

It was quiet for a moment and she gazed down at the ground, her eyes slightly unfocused. She could hear the jumbled, disjointed conversations going on around her but she did little to follow them and instead turned back to Bilbo with a sad smile. 

“I think I understand what you mean.” 

She spent the rest of the night on her own, sitting by herself in the corner of the camp. The rest of the dwarves lounged comfortably, full of deer meat and finally content in the relatively warm air. She still thought of them as strangers and creatures she didn’t fully understand but there was something else there too when she watched them. Something fundamentally welcoming. 

“What’s this?” It was Ori, holding up a tiny, tattered book she’d all but forgotten about

“Were you going through my things?” She teased, raising an eyebrow

“N-No I…” he stuttered

“It’s all right.” She mumbled before he could turn another shade redder, “They’re children’s stories, passed down by my people. That particular copy is probably 400 years old.” 

“Will you read one to us?” This time it was Kili who had perked up at the noise though his eyes still drooped with sleep

“Oh…well, they’re faerie stories so I don’t think you’d…” she began, wringing her hands

“Please?” Ori glanced up from where he was sitting, eyes wide, as he handed her the book

“I…all right.” She sighed, giving in

The dwarves shifted around the fire so she had a place to sit and she flipped through the book, trying to find a story they might enjoy. Kili yawned beside her, craning his neck over her shoulder to follow the pages as she turned them. Finally, he reached forward, turning back a page. 

“Is that a dwarf?” 

She opened the book to nearly the middle, flattening out the pages and staring down at the intricate illustrations below. Kili scooted closer, nearly resting his chin on her shoulder as she traced over the familiar words with her fingertips, written in an ancient faerie language few took the time to translate any longer. Being of royal blood, she’d spent many a lesson learning the ancient tongue. 

“Yes, that’s King Orchith.” She replied quietly, shifting more comfortably

“Tell us that story.” Kili replied, relaxing on the ground beside her again 

“Once, there were faeries who lived beside a giant mountain. Inside this mountain, dwarves also lived and mined for precious metals. Although they were not friends, they allowed each other to live with relative peace and they traded amongst each other freely.” She began, her voice carried by the wind

“One day, during a full moon, a witch disguised as a weary traveler came to the lands, looking for power. However, when she reached the mountain she found that the dwarves were too strong and the faeries were too clever to be taken over so easily.”

Bofur snickered, as though he knew that the dwarves couldn’t be taken over because of their strength and Dwalin nodded to him, some sort of silent agreement. 

“And so she cursed them with pain and death until they found a way to come together for she knew that it would be very difficult for faeries and dwarves to work together, nearly impossible even.” 

Ori’s eye’s had grown wide as he watched from her other side and even Kili had propped himself up, watching her carefully. Fili was behind him, smoking on a pipe though he remained intently focused on her. 

“The dwarves lands were plagued with disease and death. Their people were sick, dying, and so King Orchith of the dwarves came to the faeries. In his rage, he blamed the faeries for his plight. But unbeknownst to him, the faeries were also dying and growing weaker as the days went on.” She paused to take a breath, turning the page

“When the dwarven king’s son became ill with the sickness that had taken so many of his people, he sought the help of the faeries. And they turned him away.” 

She expected the small, shocked noises that resonated through the few dwarves that were still awake and listening. Kili’s eyebrows immediately knotted, unable to comprehend why the faeries wouldn’t help. 

“King Orchith and the faerie king, King Luno, spent many days and nights fighting on top of the mountain, though neither of them would forfeit and admit defeat. For weeks they fought and around them, their people died.” She sighed, “Now, about this time, a curious faerie hunter snuck into the dwarven stronghold. His name was Daeron and he was King Luno’s son.” 

Ori was now clinging to every word and Kili had pushed himself up so he could look at the book himself, perhaps to see the small illustrations. Fili, Bofur and Bombur seemed to be the only others who were awake, though Bombur occasionally nodded off. 

“He made his way into the deepest caverns, through tunnels where no light broke through. After three long days of traveling, he came to a castle built into the rock. He climbed the castle, looking for King Orchith’s youngest son, looking to slay him. When he reached the last bedroom, he drew his bow, ready to shoot.” She paused for dramatic effect. “But as his victim turned ‘round, he couldn’t do it. For instead of a son, a she-dwarf, more beautiful than any creature he had ever seen, faced him. Her name was Sonya and she was King Orchith’s secret daughter who he hid away for years and years.” 

Ori gasped and Dahlia couldn’t help but smile. Kili was still craning his head to look at the book and Fili had momentarily stopped smoking his pipe to focus more intently on the story. 

“When she saw Daeron, she forgot her prejudice against the faeries and the two embraced. Together, they confronted their fathers on top of the mountain, to stop the fighting and work together. But in their rage, the kings killed Daeron without a second though. Sonya cried and cried for her lost love, her tears eventually turning to the rain that cured the dwarves and faeries of their curse and created the first healing fountain.”

“Both kings saw their fault, saw that they had only created destruction, and a long period of peace reigned between the dwarves and the faeries. Together, they defended their healing fountain and their races lived longer than ever, immune to both disease and sickness. But Sonya, whose heart was broken beyond repair, could not bear to live beneath the mountain when her lover’s body stayed above it and so she joined the stars to watch over her lover.” Dahlia glanced up at the sky momentarily, “They say her star is the brightest and it leads those who are lost home.” 

It was silent after that as Ori stared up at the sky and then back at her. Finally, she closed the book, swallowing. They seemed to relax after that and she relaxed along with them. 

“Is that a true story?” Ori asked quietly, frowning

“I honestly don’t know.” She replied with a shrug

“Well…it was nice.” He added, going back to doodling in his book

“Yes, a good story.” Bombur muttered in his sleep before falling back against the ground with a thud

She glanced over in time to see Ori drawing a picture inspired by the story and she grinned, pushing the book into his lap and retreating to her spot at the edge of the group. The rest of the dwarves scattered about the fire, yawning. 

“What about now?” Kili’s voice broke the silence as he sat up, now awake

“What do you mean?” she asked, yawning and leaning back against her pack

“What do faeries think of the other races?” 

“I…” she wanted to tell him a beautiful lie but the words lodged in her throat and she sighed, “Faeries don’t…trust other races. We’ve hidden ourselves away.” 

“But you weren’t hidden…you came and found us.” Fili mumbled, half asleep

“I…” she blushed, “I wasn’t supposed…we have rules…” 

“Rules?” Kili cocked his head to the side

“Faeries are not permitted to interact with other races.” She replied, “We’re…suspicious, I suppose.” 

“But not you?” Kili was smiling now, his eyes drooping slightly 

“Perhaps I’m just foolish.” 

He laughed and she managed a smile. Foolish, yes, that was the biggest understatement of her life. She was more than foolish, borderline insane if you asked her father. 

“Are there no faeries who are friends with dwarves then?” Kili asked, lying down beside the fire

“Just me.” She replied, biting her tongue too late

He glanced back, surprised, but then allowed a soft smile to spread across his face. He nodded, as though that were good enough for him, and then turned back over onto his side. He slowly fell asleep with the rest of the dwarves and their small hobbit while she cuddled up against her bag, closing her eyes.


	4. Rhosgobel Rabbits

Three more days of walking and camping began to take their toll on her. The past couple of nights she hadn’t gotten a good night sleep, something intangible keeping her awake, prodding her subconscious. The rest of the dwarves didn’t seem to have this issue and their chorus of snores often comforted her as she lied awake at night. 

As much as she hated to admit it, she missed home. 

She missed being with her people, being around other faeries. While the dwarves were nothing but nice to her, they were still foreign and it was hard to consider them friends in so short a time as she had known them. Still, on the last day of hiking when they were nearing the edge of the forest, she felt a pang of sadness at the prospect of leaving them so soon. No doubt she would probably never see them again and it would make hiking back all the more difficult. 

“What’s wrong, Miss. Dahlia?” Fili asked as he fell in line beside her, nudging her playfully 

“Hmm?” She focused on him slowly, “Oh, nothing. I’m fine.” 

He continued to stare at her incredulously, not believing her for a moment. She felt particularly close to Fili and Kili, seeing as they seemed to be around her same age. More than that, they had spent a considerable amount of time making sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed. She sighed, brushing stray hairs from her face and trying to find something that would distract him from her internal angst. 

“So…dwarf hair is important?” she mumbled, glancing over at him again 

“Oh yes.” He replied, “Certain styles symbolize status, you get braids for important events and milestones, and obviously the _beards_.”

She grinned, casually glancing around the group. It was true that many of the dwarves had quite intricate designs when it came to their hair and facial hair. Even Fili had a few braids that he seemed particularly proud of but she was too shy to ask him what they meant. 

“Why doesn’t Kili have a beard?” she muttered after a moment, glancing up at him in the front of the group

“Kili can’t grow a beard!” Fili replied, loud enough for Kili to whip his head back, glaring

“Can so!” he retorted, “I just keep it short…so it doesn’t get tangled in my bow.” 

“A bow’s an elf weapons.” Gloin grumbled, more to himself than anyone

“Hey!” She retorted, crossing her arms

“If I _wanted_ a beard, I could grow one.” Kili continued as though he hadn’t heard Gloin at all

“Is that so, little brother?” Fili smirked

“Yes, that is so.” Kili replied, stopping so Fili could catch up with him

“Perhaps you should then…lay the rumours to rest.” Fili shrugged, glancing back with a wink at Dahlia

“What rumours?” Kili seemed genuinely concerned, his mouth turned into a frown 

“Just the rumours that you’re actually a she-…” Fili didn’t get to finish as Kili pounced on him, pushing him to the ground with a grunt

They rolled down the hill, fighting each other the entire way. She laughed, falling in line beside Bilbo, and continuing to walk as the rest of the group ignored the young dwarves. The brothers finally caught up with them after a few minutes, leaves and sticks and mud in their hair and what appeared to be a fresh cut over Kili’s eye and a bruise on Fili’s jaw. 

She dragged her thoughts away, gazing out into the forest with practiced precision. It was the first time since they’d been hiking that she felt something was genuinely wrong and she stopped moving altogether to get a better feel for the area. The woods were silent, never a good sign. 

Her sudden and deliberate stop made Ori plow straight into her, nearly knocking them both to the ground. A few of the dwarves ahead glanced back, pausing. 

“What’s the…” Thorin began, turning with a glare

“What’s that noise?” She interrupted, turning back the way they’d come

“I don’t…” Bombur began

“Shh.” Fili interrupted, his eyebrows furrowing as he came to stand were she stood

“I hear it too!” Kili added, gripping his bow tightly

And then it was upon them, in less time than she could have imagined. Two of the dwarves, she wasn’t sure which, pushed her out of the way as a strange sled-like contraption came to a halt beside them. Kili managed to drag her back to her feet in the next moment as a peculiar old man stepped forward, making his way towards Gandalf. 

“Radagast! What on earth are you doing here?” Gandalf cried

“I w-was looking for you, Gandalf.” He replied, “Something’ wrong…something’s terribly wrong.” 

She took a few steps to the side, ignoring the rest of the conversation and sinking down to the same level as the rabbits that pulled him along. One nuzzled against her hand and she ripped some grass up, letting him nibble at it. She could feel the gaze of some of the other dwarves but she didn’t turn back. 

“I suppose you’re near the end of your journey with us.” Kili muttered after a moment and she glanced up sharply as he pointed to the edge of the forest

She had seen it far before and had even had them take a slightly longer route to grace herself with a few more minutes of their company. She simply ducked her head in response, staring down at the rabbits again. 

“Well, thank you.” He dragged her back to look at him, “We couldn’t have gotten through here this quickly without you.” 

He gave her a good-natured smile, beaming down at her, and she slowly nodded, still frowning. She tried to remind herself that she _did_ indeed miss being home and the people there. She tried not to think of where the dwarves were headed: to their probable death. 

The howl was what brought her out of her daze.

“Was that a wolf?” Bilbo asked, “Are there wolves out here?”

“That wasn’t a wolf.” She replied, pulling her bow from her pack and turning around to see which way it had come from 

“Warg scouts!” Thorin shouted, slicing through the first of the creatures

She’d never seen such rabid animals before, their eyes glazed over and glaring. It was an unnatural creature, twisted from its original form. Another circled around the group and she turned in time to see Kili shoot it between the eyes. A final crunch from Dwalin’s axe and it was silenced for good. 

“You are being hunted.” Gandalf whispered, frowning at Thorin

“By who?” She breathed to herself, her grip tightening on her bow

“We have to get out of here.” Dwalin interrupted, pulling his axe from the beast

“We can’t!” Ori cried, “The ponies have bolted.” 

And sure enough the ponies were speeding away, supplies jangling beside them. Dahlia took a few steps in their direction and realized it was foolish to try to follow, they had spread out and were beyond their grasp now. 

“I’ll draw them off.” It was Radagast who said it 

“These are Gundabad Wargs…they will outrun you.” Gandalf replied, his eyes heavy

“There are Rhosgobel Rabbits.” Radagast countered, “I’d like to see them try.” 

With his final word they sped away, bouncing precariously up the hill towards the rest of the foul creatures. She followed his path with her eyes until he disappeared over the edge, onto the plains, as the wargs cried and chased after him. 

“Come on!” 

Fili and Kili each grabbed one of her arms simultaneously, pulling her along as they ran towards the other end of the plains. She thought, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she’d been so close to the end of this journey and now… _this_. 

She’d never been this far out from the forest and she paused in the last shadows of the trees, staring out at the plains in front of her. When Fili pulled her along again she flinched, her skin itching in such openness. The group ran for their lives, pausing only at the edge of a strange rock formation to catch their breath. She pressed herself against it, fingertips biting into the cool, hard surface, before pushing herself forward again to the next one. 

“Wait!” Thorin hissed, pointing above them 

She froze, hearing the wargs heavy breathing from above. Thorin motioned to Kili and he nodded, taking a breath and then shoving himself out into the open to fire on the beast. It clamoured down in front of them, half dead, and its cried alerted the rest of the group. 

“They’re coming.” Her voice was calm even as her heart hammered hard, “They’re turning ‘round…”

“Run!” Thorin commanded

But they were no match for a scouting party of wargs. Eventually, they found themselves pinned against the rocks. Dahlia and Kili moved forward, the only two with any ranged weapons (unless you counted Ori’s sling shot…which she didn’t). Kili fired shot after shot as fast as he could, hitting the wargs as they got close.

Dahlia noticed one sneaking up on Dwalin as he killed another. It took her less than a moment to pull back an arrow, sending it flying through the creatures head. Dwalin glanced over, perhaps expecting to see Kili, and his eyebrows furrowed dramatically when all he saw was her. 

“Where is Gandalf?” she glanced back towards the rocks but he was nowhere to be seen

_Perfect_.

Her eyes naturally traveled up to the sky for a moment and then back down to the forest that was so close by. She thought about taking off, leaving them to their demise, but without her light she couldn’t have gone far. 

The wargs closed in and she pressed tighter against the group. She fired another shot, spearing an arrow through a rider and throwing the warg off course as it took out another by mistake. 

“This way, you fools!” Gandalf’s voice rose above every other sound and she twisted back to see him, motioning towards the rocks

“Move!” Thorin commanded and the dwarves began to run towards Gandalf while she took quick steps backwards, still firing, trying to buy them time

“Princess Dahlia.” Gandalf’s voice was loud as he grabbed her, shoving her towards the rocks

Only they weren’t just rocks and she tumbled into darkness with a shriek. She skidded to the ground, toppling over onto Fili and then rolling to the side with a groan. 

“Lady Dahlia, are you all right?” Bombur asked, sitting near the back of the crevice

“Perfect.” She mumbled sarcastically, attempting to get up

But then Kili was sliding into the cave and he crashed into her, flattening them both to the ground once more. 

“Sorry!” he gasped, trying to push himself away, “Sorry!” 

“It’s…fine.” She wheezed, sitting up with another groan

It seemed that the rest of the group was all there and unharmed and she took a few deep breaths to steady herself, still sitting on the ground. 

“You.” 

Dwalin moved quickly as the rest of the group stumbled to get out of his way. He lifted her by her breastplate with ease and set her on her feet so she was standing in front of him. He eyed her up and down for a moment and then, finally, handed her an arrow, coated in blood, as though that should have explained his actions. 

“Gandalf says you are royalty.” He mumbled, frowning still

“I…yes.” She admitted with a frown of her own 

“And you’ve left your people to help us?” He asked

“Erm…something like that, yes.” She replied

“Then let me be the first to thank you, Princess.” He knelt in front of her, “And to thank you personally for saving my life.” 

She nodded, uncomfortable, and he finally stood up again. He clapped a hand down hard onto her shoulder, nearly knocking her to the ground, and then retreated to the back of the group. 

Thorin didn’t look particularly surprised or pleased by the turn of events but for once, he didn’t say anything. The group glanced around in the dark, perhaps subconsciously looking for injuries, and then Ori found a way out of the cave. 

They moved forward slowly and she sank back to the end of the line, shuffling along behind them. This was not what she signed up for (if you could call it signing up at all). The forest was long gone, she had gotten them out, and now they were in some strange, underground lair that made her feel confined on all sides. 

She glanced back once, back the way they’d come, and had the fleeting idea that perhaps she would try to escape back to the forest. But it was hopeless. Bofur and Kili sunk back with her, lining up on either side and casting strange glances when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

“So.” Kili began uncomfortably, “A faerie princess?” 

“Yeah.” She muttered, staring straight ahead

“It’s…it’s kind of…well, Dwalin doesn’t bow to just _anyone_.” He mumbled, adding, “My only faerie friend is also _royalty._ ”

He was trying to rile her up, make her forget the situation and focus only on his teasing. He nudged her slightly, smirking, and she finally glanced over, a tiny smile breaking through her icy exterior. After all, he’d called her his friend. 

“Or…” she mumbled, “We could just forget it and pretend that I’m still boring, insignificant, old, Dahlia.” 

“Aren’t you?” he joked, raising an eyebrow

She went to hit him, biting her lip hard to keep the smile from spreading, but he simply chuckled, ducking out of the way and retreating towards the front of the group. She followed his movements silently as he made his way to the front, but not without a glance back at her, cheeks flushed. 

“You know, I had my doubts about you, Lady Dahlia.” Bofur began, “But you’ve proven yourself to be quite useful.” 

“Thanks, Bofur.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes as he grinned before jogging to catch up with Bilbo

“Wait.” 

She glanced up in time to see the rest of the group had stopped at what appeared to be the end of the tunnel and she pushed herself forward, gaping at the scene below. Rivendell cascaded in front of her in beautiful hues and tints, tinkling from waterfalls and dipping down past mountainsides. 

“It’s Rivendell.” Bilbo murmured, close beside her

“It’s beautiful.” She whispered, glancing over at him 

“And yet the rest of the group seems wary.” He replied as they slowly, even begrudgingly, moved towards the city

“Dwarves have always had a strained relationship with Elves.” She shrugged

“Not faeries?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side

“We’ve had our problems in the past.” She admitted, “Though every elf I’ve come in contact with seemed kind…albeit a bit snooty.” 

And it was true. Elves had sought to once control the faeries and when they had rebelled, it hadn’t ended pretty. Now their relationship was strained at best, though elves seemed to be the closest race in terms of ideology to faeries.

“You really weren’t found of that ‘no interacting with other races’ rule, hmm?” 

She blushed and looked away, staring down at the city as they drew closer and closer. It seemed she gave herself away more and more frequently with this strange group. Perhaps her father had been right, perhaps it was dangerous. They made you put your guard down and you inadvertently told them everything there was to know. 

She glanced back at Bilbo and couldn’t help but smile at his awed expression. At least, she was sure, he wasn’t looking to use anything against her. And despite the journey being long and hard, and their destination being somewhat vague, it was clear that this place made Bilbo happy. 

“I always wanted to find the elves.” He admitted after a moment, “Ever since I was a child.” 

“Well, look at you now.” She joked and he smiled

“Look indeed.” 

They made it all the way to the edge of the city, passing through an illustrious marble area, before the dwarves began to become agitated. She tried to take a few steps forward, to peer around the rest of the group, but Kili caught her arm and pulled her back. 

“Don’t.” he whispered, “You can’t trust elves.” 

“You sound like my father.” She whined, trying to pull away slightly

It was clear he wasn’t going to let her go and so she settled for pouting beside him, arms crossed over her chest. Perhaps she would find time to explore later before she eventually left for her long journey home. 

“I don’t know why you’re so…” she began as a horn sounded and hooves rang clearly around them 

“You were saying?” Kili replied grimly, toying with an arrow

She glared in response, though she didn’t put up much of a fight when he dragged her to the middle of the group. The horses circled around them, much to her surprise, and then finally stopped to create a sort of barrier all the way around them. A man with flowing, dark chocolate hair stepped forward, glancing at Gandalf. 

“It’s strange for orcs to come so close to our borders.” He murmured, “Something…or _someone_ much have drawn them in.” 

“Ah.” Gandalf smiled and it set her at ease, “That may have been us.” 

“It’s been too long, old friend.” The elf stated, embracing Gandalf quickly

“Indeed it has, Lord Elrond.” 

“And you’ve brought guests.” He turned to face the rest of the group, “Welcome, Thorin, Son of Thrarin.” 

“I do not believe we’ve met.” Thorin replied moodily

“You have your grandfather’s bearing.” Elrond replied, “I knew Thror when he ruled over the mountain.” 

“Indeed…he made no mention of you.” 

Dahlia nearly went to kick him before Kili stopped her, folding her back tightly to his chest. The movement stirred the other dwarves and brought more attention to her than she would have liked. Elrond stared quite plainly, a strange fascination upon his face, though he frowned when he spoke. 

“You’ve brought a lady with you.” 

She prickled slightly at the word lady but didn’t respond. The dwarves, on the other hand, responded immediately. They huddled closer and Fili and Kili nearly blocked her from view, stepping together to create a sort of wall. 

“A she-dwarf?” Elrond asked, confused by the display of protection

“No.” she replied, pushing herself to the front, “A faerie.” 

“Princess Dahlia.” Elrond bowed his head in respect, “We have not lost sight of the faeries…though we respect your wishes for privacy.” 

“Clearly.” She huffed, nearly silently

“And your father has given his blessing to join this group?” 

“I…he…”

“Dahlia has simply been our guide. She will return home shortly.” Gandalf answered, much to her relief

“I can see why she’s of use to you. No one knows the wilds better.” Elrond replied, giving Gandalf an all-knowing glance that made her uncomfortable

She sunk back with the rest of the dwarves, glad when they welcomed her readily, closing the circle back around her and blocking her from view. Elrond turned to Gandalf, quickly speaking in Elvish as the dwarves around her prickled. 

“What is he saying?” Gloin demanded, “Does he offer us insult?”

“No, Master Gloin.” Gandalf chuckled, “He is offering you food.” 

“Come, let me show you to your rooms. You can wash up while we prepare food.” Elrond stated

Elves in ornate gowns descended from the stairs above, taking the dwarves two at a time to rooms somewhere else in the city. 

“We’ve prepared a separate room for you, Lady Dahlia.” A female elf stated, bowing her head slightly

“Separate room?” Bombur glanced over, “How far will she be?” 

“Close by, Master Dwarf.” Elrond answered quietly, “You needn’t worry.” 

The dwarves glanced at each other but allowed the elves to take them away. Dahlia threw a cautious smile to Fili and Kili, who were the last to leave and struggled the most, before following the elf woman upstairs. She stayed beside Dahlia, probably a difficult task considering her height, until they neared the end of the hall. 

“This is your room.” She opened the door and let Dahlia slink inside, “There’s a bath ready for you and clothes that we hope will be to your liking. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” And with that she closed the door softly

Dahlia waited a moment, glancing around the open room, and then closed in on the steaming bath. Back at home, steaming baths were common as there were several hot springs in the area. But as they’d traveled, cold streams had been more of the norm and the steam that bubbled up from the tub was more than inviting. 

She quickly undressed, letting her hair down in waves and then sunk into the water with a sigh. It bubbled lightly on the surface and petals from beautiful flowers were scattered about, making her drowsy and content. 

Beautiful, thin, glass vials were placed on the table beside the tub and she tried them all, making the water even soapier. When she was finally done, and couldn’t have been cleaner if she tried, she stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in the thick cloth that was left there for her. 

The dress they left out for her was a simple, grey thing that cascaded to the floor except for a cut near the front that rose nearly to her thigh. The bottom sparkled lightly, like it was covered in stars, and the sleeves were tight and reached down to her palms, her thumbs fitting through a hole cut into the fabric. 

“Lady Dahlia?” The voice accompanied a small knock and she let the elf that’d brought her here in the first place into the room, “I trust you’ve found everything to your liking?” 

“Yes, everything is wonderful.” Dahlia replied with a small smile

“The food will be prepared soon.” The elf mumbled, “I was asked to help you get ready.” 

It made Dahlia oddly uncomfortable but she allowed the elf to brush through her hair with a stiff, white comb. When she was satisfied, she braided a few sections, trying them back out of her face, and let the rest cascade into dark waves down her back. To the braids she attached tiny, silver chains that shined bright in the light form the setting sun. 

“You look wonderful.” She murmured, pulling away to admire her work

“Thank you.” 

She left Dahlia at the top of the stairs, pointing downward to signify where the rest of the dwarves were already feasting. It wouldn’t have taken her long to find them, their loud voices echoing against the marble surfaces of the otherwise quiet area. She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves, and then slowly descended the stairs, biting her lip. 

“By Durin…” 

She didn’t look up, though she was certain it was Fili’s voice. When she finally made it to the bottom step, she glanced at them, her cheeks blooming as she realized they had all stopped eating to stare. 

“Lady Dahlia…” Kili didn’t seem to know how to finish the thought, though he stood all the same in respect, his mouth slightly ajar from the words that refused to pass his lips

“You look beautiful!” Bombur finished with a grin, stuffing a hardboiled egg into his mouth, “Ravishing!” 

The rest of the group murmured agreements as she continued to blush, muttering her thanks, and then Kili dragged out the chair beside him for her to sit. The food was mostly green and fresh, something that the dwarves had a hard time swallowing, though she found it refreshing all the same. 

“They made your hair look nice…” Kili began, nearly reaching out to brush his fingertips through it, “Not that it wasn’t nice before…because it was it’s just…it’s different now…”

He turned back to his food, grimacing slightly as she grinned. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable. She was never one to prolong anyone’s suffering though and so she quickly turned to him, pulling on a bit of his hair lightly. 

“It looks like they finally got you to brush _your_ hair.” She joked

It worked and he grinned, nudging her away slightly before he went back to eating his food. She ate hers without much conversation, though she liked to watch Bilbo taking in the new sights.

“We should explore.” Fili mumbled from across the table, nudging Kili

“Maybe find some proper food?” Kili asked with a grin

“You coming, Lady Dahlia?” Fili asked as an afterthought as the brothers began going up the steps

“Just Dahlia please.” She replied, letting him pull her from her seat

They left the table without a goodbye, taking a hallway none of them could remember seeing when they came in. Murals adorned the walls, telling stories she had never heard of before. Somewhere far ahead, she could hear the crashing of water. 

“Daahliuhh.” Kili seemed to be talking to himself 

“Yes?” She pushed him, raising an eyebrow

“You’ve got a weird name.” he replied

“Not dwarvish, he means.” Fili must have been used to quickly correcting his brother

“Dahlia’s were my mothers favourite flower.” She replied with a shrug, “She thought they were beautiful.” 

“Then the name suits you.” Fili replied with a good-natured smile, leading the way as Kili and I fell behind

“You never talked about your mother.” He mumbled after a moment

“She’s dead.” She replied simply, “She died when I was very young.” 

He nodded, as though he understood, and she figured he did understand. After all, there was a reason Thorin was the man he looked up to and not his father. 

“Lady…” Kili began

“Don’t.” she interrupted, “Just Dahlia.” 

“What about Lia?” he asked shyly, glancing over at her through her hair

“Works for me.” She replied, glad that he was finally leaving “Lady” and “Miss” and “Princess” out of his vocabulary

He smiled and then took off after Fili. She watched him go, confused as to when they had all become so important to her at all. 

“Lia, look!” 

The nickname caused an unexpected stirring in her stomach but she ignored it to the best of her ability as she neared where Fili and Kili were standing. They pointed and she gaped, staring down at the enormous waterfall in front of them. 

“We should jump.” Kili stated

“That sounds like a bad…” Fili began but it was too late

Kili grabbed them both, shoving all three of them over the side of the edge. She screamed, at least she thought she screamed, but the air was knocked from her lungs as she hit the surface. She coughed, dragging herself back, thankful to have grown up swimming her whole life. 

“The fool can’t swim!” Fili shouted desperately from the other side of the pool, looking around frantically for his brother

“What?” disbelief flooded her features as she turned around and around, trying to see him in the dark pool 

It took her a few times of dunking below the surface but she finally found him near the bottom and grabbed his hand to drag him back to the surface. He was limp against her and Fili helped drag him to the side of the pool as she pulled herself up and out of the water. Fili banged hard on his chest as Kili began to cough up water, sputtering. 

“You imbecile!” She shrieked, hitting him hard

“Didn’t think…it’d be that deep.” He managed, flinching when she went to hit him again

Fili caught her just in time, dragging her back away until he was sure she wasn’t going to attack. He pulled Kili up as well and she stalked off in front of them, arms crossed over her chest as she chattered desperately. 

She couldn’t figure out what bothered her more.: that he had so carelessly thrown his life around or that she even cared in the first place. She tried to reason with herself. They were off on a suicidal mission and she was going home. There was no place for childish feelings like this. 

Kili and Fili soon caught up though, forcing her between them to keep her warm. She didn’t fight them, goosebumps already rising across her skin, though she kept her arms crossed tightly. 

“I still think you’re an idiot.” She chattered as Kili pressed against her, “I have every right to be mad.” 

He simply tightened his arm around her, fingers biting into her own arm. Fili pulled her closer as well and the three of them shivered together. She pointed to her room when they neared the hallway, breaking free to open the door. They followed all the way to the doorway and then Fili punched Kili in the arm, nodding in Dahlia’s direction. 

“I…I’m sorry.” Kili muttered, looking overwhelmingly guilty

She sighed, but managed a curt nod in response. Kili immediately broke into a tiny smile, still looking sick to him stomach, before Fili dragged him away. She closed the door behind them, peeling off the now ruined, wet clothing and slipping into a nightgown. 

Dwarves, she reasoned, were far more trouble than they were worth.


	5. Real Dwarven Sausage

Dahlia slept for most of the day, awaking only when a messenger was sent to bring her more clothes. This time she slipped into a dark blue dress that flowed to her calves and had the same, long, tight sleeves as the other. She put on her leather boots for comfort and then spent the rest of the day reading at a desk in the corner of the room. 

The first elven maiden that had brought her here to begin with brought her a light dinner and redid her hair, apparently having heard about the accident from the previous night. She didn’t mention it though and Dahlia was more than grateful when she simply left her wavy hair down her back without intricate designs or embellishments. 

When the sky was beginning to purple, the night descending on the area at a rapid rate, someone knocked lightly on the door and then let himself in. 

“Princess Dahlia.” 

She turned back towards him as Gandalf entered the room, glancing around. He smiled, his eyes twinkling even in the dull light, and then motioned for her to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“As promised.” He added, tapping the end of his staff very lightly on her head as that same cooling sensation from before blanketed her

“I told you that you were free to go the moment you stepped out of the forest.” He stated, “I’m sorry that you’ve been dragged so much farther than I anticipated.”

He didn’t seem particularly sorry…nor like he had anticipated anything less than what had happened. Still, she didn’t correct him, afraid that he might take away her light again. 

“And so, you are free to leave whenever you wish. Elrond has extended his hospitality and bid me tell you that you are welcome to stay as long…”

“Dahlia!” 

The door crashed open and Kili tumbled through, eyes wide and hands outstretched to break his fall. She stood on instinct at the noise and Kili quickly moved towards her, grabbing both hands. Gandalf simply raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching slightly. 

“Sorry Mister Gandalf.” He glanced back and then returned to facing her, “Please Dahlia, you can’t leave.” 

“I…”

“ _Please_ , we need you.” 

“Kili…”

What was there to say? Dahlia’s mind went blank as she tried to ooze some sort of coherent sentence past her stubborn lips. She glanced at Gandalf and sighed at his unhelpful expression. Perhaps he had “anticipated” this too. 

“Master Dwarf, how were you even privy to this conversation?” Gandalf finally broke the tension

“Fili said Balin told Dwalin told Bombur told Bofur told him that you were giving Dahlia her light back and that after last night, she was going to leave because she was mad at me and all the others were mad at me and…” Kili spouted, utterly distraught, “And you can’t leave just on account of me.” 

“It seems you’ve found some admirers.” Gandalf muttered, smiling softly

“I suppose if the rest of the group…they’ve treated me so well…” she tried to come up with logical reasons that weren’t there to come up with

Reasons that didn’t lead to abandoning her clan _again_ in search of adventure and excitement. Reasons that didn’t include dwarves whose lives were suddenly precious to her. Reasons that didn’t include Kili, who was staring at her with eyes that could swallow her whole. 

Oh, her father was going to _love_ this.

“So…you’ll stay?” Kili pulled her back to face him 

“Not to sway you one way or the other, but this quest will only get more difficult from here. There will be more danger…and I cannot guarantee you will return.” Gandalf muttered, despite Kili’s glare, “And there is the matter of your father…”

She prickled at the mention of her father, visibly taking a step back. Of course he wouldn’t want her to go. He would try to keep her at home, tell her she had a _duty_ to sit around in a dusty room, wasting away to nothing. By all accounts, this might be her _only_ chance to see the world. 

And why shouldn’t she accompany them? Their quest was important and they’d lost their home just as the faeries had time and time again. If anything, she knew their plight better than even they did. And regardless of what she’d tried over and over to convince herself…they were her friends. 

“I’ll go.” She whispered, “I want to help.” 

Gandalf simply chuckled, walking out of the room with promises to send a message to her father before he closed the door behind him. Kili grinned, squeezing her hands again, and bringing her attention back to him.

“Great.” He breathed it as a sigh of relief, “Uhm…also, we were wondering if you’d like to join us tonight for what Bombur calls ‘real food and watered down ale!” Kili mimicked him, grinning again

She raised an eyebrow at his antics but shrugged nonetheless, letting him pull her out into the hallway. They fell in line side by side and she noted that he was taking the long way around, though she didn’t call attention to the fact. Kili made her feel calm, less different than the rest of them. Maybe it was his carefree attitude (which she could’ve killed him for sometimes) or the way his brother and he interacted. 

Hell, maybe it was just because he was intent on being her friend and didn’t care that she was a faerie princess. 

“I never thanked you. You saved my life and…” He stopped her, “And about last night…”

“It’s fine.” She waved off the apology before he could even really begin, “I overreacted, that’s all.” 

“I didn’t mean to…” he began again, lowering his head

“I know.” She replied quietly, “Really, it’s all right. You’re safe, I’m safe, Fili’s safe…”

He smiled and then, without hesitation, dragged her into a tight embrace. She froze, trying hard to cover it up by wrapping her arms around him as well. 

“Thank you.” He mumbled into her hair, squeezing her slightly

She mumbled an affirmative against his shoulder, trying desperately to ignore the hidden strength in his arms or the sweet smell of nature that still clung to him. Kili was comfort, a safe haven from all that was new and unfamiliar to her. Her face fit perfectly at the crook of his neck, though she turned away and ignored that fact vehemently. 

Finally, she pulled away, nearly stumbling as they began to walk again. Kili fell in line beside her, apparently unaware of the strange, child-like feelings that swirled about her, and they neared the group in no time. 

“Ah, Dahlia!” Bombur announced her arrival from beside the fire, “So glad you could make it.” 

She nodded silently, glad that the rest of the dwarves seemed to be dropping “lady” in favour of a more casual relationship. Kili wandered to the other side of the group, lying back against a bench and pulling out his pipe. Fili scanned over her and then turned to Kili with a knowing glance that he simply nodded to.

“Drink with us, Dahlia!” Dwalin was already a bit tipsy, stumbling over, “Make the _real_ ancestors proud.” 

He offered her a mug and she took it carefully, staring down at the foamy liquid below. She’d never been much for drinking ale (she preferred red wine) and she wasn’t deluded enough to think she could hope to keep up with a bunch of well-drunk dwarves. Still, Dwalin was waiting, ever hopeful that he might actually turn her into a dwarf so he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed that he had actually befriended a faerie. She drank to appease him, grinning. 

“Aye, we’ll make a regular she-dwarf outta you yet!” Bofur cried, patting her hard on the back and making her choke

The rest of the dwarves roared with laughter and she managed a smile, drinking the rest of the pint and setting it to the side. Unfortunately, the dwarves knew little of moderation and soon it was filled and in her hands again. 

After her second mug, Thorin found her, his eyes dark. He grabbed her hand without warning, pulling her off to the side of the group. The yelp that escaped past her lips alerted the rest of the group but they quickly turned away and pretended not to notice. In the shadow of an archway he finally let her go, turning to face her with a frown. 

“Gandalf has given you back your light…and yet you choose to stay.” He mumbled, “Why?” 

“I know what it’s like to have your home stolen from you.” She replied, rubbing her wrist, “And I want to help. Your companions…well, they’ve become my friends.” 

His eyes narrowed on her but there was something else behind the suspicion. Perhaps a tiny amount of respect had been garnered with the couple of weeks she’d spent with them. Finally, he nodded, more to himself, and turned to leave. 

“I know you don’t think much of me…but I can be useful.” She added, “And I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” 

“Perhaps…” it seemed to pain him to say it, “Perhaps I was wrong about the faeries. About you.” 

“And here I was starting to enjoy proving myself to you.” She joked, the alcohol definitely raising her bravery

He didn’t smile but his lips twitched ever so slightly and she figured that was as good as it was going to get for now. She smiled, bowing her head slightly, and then retreated back to the rest of the group. Thorin watched her go, shaking his head, and then left the company alone. 

Two more drinks and she was starting to like this merry band and their strange, drunken, slurred songs. They danced around the fire, despite Bombur’s complaints about spilling food, and they wrestled each other in the outskirts of the circle. 

“Dahlia, try this!” Bombur grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the frying pan, “Delicious, delicious.” 

She tried a bite of sausage and nodded, letting Dwalin fill up her mug again. It tasted heavy, not like the food she was used to. A pang of homesickness hit her chest like a brick but she covered the momentary lapse in expression with a cough, downing more ale. 

“It’s good, isn’t it? _Real_ dwarven sausage.” He laughed to himself, inhaling the rest of the link, “Can you imagine? In a place like this?”

He was still laughing when Kili grabbed her hands, spinning her in a childlike dance that left her breathless. Bofur and Balin played instruments, swaying back and forth to keep time, and for once the group seemed lighthearted and happy. Kili roared with laughter when the song was over, collapsing back against the ground with his feet in the air. She couldn’t help but laugh with him, settling down at his side as Fili came by with more pints for each of them. 

“What is that…ten?” she asked in disbelief as Kili surfaced for air, his mug empty again

“Twelve.” He grinned, his cheeks flushed

His grin was, as per usual, infectious, and her tinkering laughter filled the group for a moment as she rocked back with her still full mug. Kili simply grinned again at the sound, though she noted that a blush had crept across his cheeks all the same. 

Dwalin was in a heated debate when she noticed them, the tiny designs that were tattooed across his knuckles and head. She managed to shift overtop of Fili, though he didn’t seem to notice as he had just entered a chugging contest with Kili, and sat herself directly beside him. There she waited, ever patiently, until he noticed her staring and scowled. 

“Aye?” he growled, taking a harsh chug from the pint in his right hand

“You have strange markings on your face.” She stated, “And hands.”

He glanced down at his hands as though he were noticing them for the first time and then grunted, taking a swig from another pint in his left hand. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to turn his attention back to her. The ale made her ever confident, despite replacing the feeling in her lips with strange tingles.

“What do they mean?” she asked quietly, sipping at her drink

“Why do you ask me these things?” he grunted, drinking more, “You’ve got nothing better to do?” 

“You’re welcome to ask me questions too.” She replied with a shrug

He barked out a laugh and she realized some of the other dwarves were watching now, their mouths twisted up into half smiles. Finally, having finished both pints in front of him, Dwalin sighed, leaning back. 

“Ask then. And be quick about it.” He muttered, closing his eyes

“What are those?” she pointed to his hands

“Runes.” He replied gruffly

“What do they mean?” She added, ever curious

“Axes of the Dwarves. The Dwarves are upon you.” He replied loudly, flexing his fingers proudly, “If you’re close enough to see these, lass, you’d better start running.” 

The rest of the dwarves laughed or cheered, depending on how inebriated they were and she simply smiled, nodding. She went to leave, collecting her mug with her as she went, but he grabbed her shoulder and turned her back around roughly.

“It’s my turn.” He mumbled, his voice deep and haunting, “What’s on your face? On your arms?”

“The blue?” she asked, confused

No one had ever asked her before (although, who was there to ask? Other faeries that already knew the answer?). Dwalin rolled his eyes at her question, as though it should be obvious what he meant. 

“I was born like this.” She retorted and the rest of the dwarves were listening, “They say faeries once lived in forests of blue and that our skin helped us blend…they say a lot of things though, I suppose.”

“Are all faeries blue?” Ori asked from the corner, piping up for the first time that night

“No. Very few, in fact.” She replied with a good-natured smile

They all relaxed after that and Bofur played a slow song to ease them along. Balin gathered two more pints for Dwalin and he seemed more at peace with them in his hands. 

“Any more questions, Princess?” Dwalin drawled with a sarcastic smirk

“Not yet.” She shrugged and he bit back another laugh, finishing the pint in his right hand easily 

“Tell us a story, Bofur!” Fili cried suddenly, rocking back and forth and spilling ale everywhere as she crept back to her stoop between the two brothers

‘Yes, Bofur, tell us a story!” Kili added

“Oh…no…” he began, his eyelids heavy with ale

“Ask him!” Fili nudged her, “He’ll listen to you.” 

“Please Bofur.” She murmured, more confident with alcohol in her blood stream, “Won’t you tell us a story?” 

“For you, dear Dahlia, anything.” He hiccupped, grinning, “And what does the fair maiden wish to hear?” 

“Smaug.” She whispered, suddenly serious, “The fall of Erebor.” 

The rest of the group grew quiet and Bofur seemed to straighten himself up, as though the subject called for a special amount of respect, despite drinking. 

“Yes…I suppose you should hear the tale.” He murmured

The air around them seemed to grow colder and she shivered automatically, not used to the cool, silky clothes the elves had provided her. Kili seemed to be the only one that noticed and he pulled her back against his chest without a word. Perhaps if she hadn’t had so much to drink, she might have questioned humouring him, but Bofur was about to begin the tale and so she let him drag her back without question. 

Kili was like a furnace, billowing heat from every pore, and she leaned back against him naturally. He continued to smoke his pipe, the smoke drifting down and settling around her, making her more tired, her vision very nearly blurry. 

She focused on the fire, on the way it seemed to dance, and took another gulp of ale. Bofur’s voice seemed to put them all in a trance as he told the tale of Smaug the terrible. Kili bent his knees slightly, creating a wall on either side of her and cocooning her in warmth. Still, a cool wind brushed past, making her shiver again. 

“Here.” Fili freed himself of his cloak and draped it over Kili and Dahlia both

She smiled groggily in gratitude, twisting to put her ear against Kili’s chest while still watching Bofur from across the fire. Kili’s soft breathing made her drowsy and she scooted closer slightly, putting her head on his shoulder with her forehead pressed against his neck. 

He set down his pipe, using one hand to hold her against him and the other to gently play with the longest of her curls, twisting them around his fingers absentmindedly and then pulling away to watch them fall against her shoulders. 

“…for dragons have a fierce desire for gold.” Bofur continued as she reeled her thoughts back into the story and away from Kili

“Will he never leave?” she found herself asking, her voice far away when it left her lips

“Not while the gold is there.” Bofur replied, “Though the birds are returning…and that’s a good sign if I ever saw one.” 

The group murmured an agreement and she nodded, though she wasn’t sure what she was agreeing to. Bofur continued to the story, with the elves that abandoned them and the hardships they faced as they tried to adapt to a homeland that didn’t belong to them. 

She closed her eyes, finally, and relief washed over her in waves. She managed to snuggle closer to Kili still, folding up into him. He kept her there, tucked beneath his chin, until she was very nearly gone, almost asleep. 

“It seems the young prince has a soft spot for our dear princess.” A voice she couldn’t recognize over the fog in her own mind stated softly

“Shut up.” Kili grumbled in return, though he didn’t move to disturb her

After a few more seconds, minutes, hours, in the quiet, she yawned and stretched. Kili moved to accommodate her swinging limbs and then squeezed her tightly with a chuckle. 

“We should get you to bed.” He whispered, breath tickling her ear

“Mhmm.” She agreed, though she didn’t move

He laughed, pinching at her sides until she groaned, slowly pulling away from him and rubbing her eyes. The fire was still going and it made her eyes burn all the more and although it sounded far away, she knew the dwarves were still awake and celebrating.

“C’mon.” Kili offered her a hand and she stumbled to her feet, fingers bunching in his tunic to keep from falling

“Careful!” he added, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright as the two of them stumbled up the steps

“Good night, sweet maiden of the forest!” one of the dwarves sang as the rest roared with laughter

She merely waved back at them with a grin and then let Kili drag her towards her room. They laughed, probably too loudly, and nearly fell one too many times before they made it outside her door. 

“All right, in bed!” Kili stated, pushing her into the bedroom 

“Thank you for walking me back.” She smiled, letting him tuck her in, “Hmm…a true gentleman.” 

“Of course, milady.” He bowed dramatically before bursting into a fit of giggles

“Until tomorrow.” She mumbled, her eyes already closed

“Goodnight, Lia.” He whispered, kissing her knuckles and then escaping from the room silently


End file.
